Welcome to the Caribbean, Luv!
by Tierney Beckett
Summary: My first PoTC fic so please be nice! JackOC. Set five years after the end of the film. A young woman has left England to find her cousin in Port Royal. Along the way, though, she runs into everyone's favorite pirate! First chapter short, following ch
1. Introducing Kathleen

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first attempt at a PoTC fanfic, so I would appreciate any suggestions you have.  
  
Disclaimer: I own PoTC! Yay! Oh, wait. I just own the DVD. Darnit. The mouse has everything else, I guess. Including Johnny and Orlando (sniff)  
  
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She paced the floor of the cabin nervously. All was silent above her and that didn't give her a good feeling. It had been nearly half an hour since the captain had spotted a pirate ship headed towards them and had sent her down below to hide. Not ten minutes later, the sound of battle had reached her ears. Now, all of a sudden, it was quiet. Somehow, that was more frightening than the sound of swords clashing.  
  
The silence was suddenly broken by heavy footsteps near her cabin door. Instantly, Kathleen Thomas thought of every book on pirates she had ever read. Here she was, a woman alone on the high seas, at the mercy of pirates. Well, they wouldn't be taking her without a fight. She grabbed the only suitable weapon she could find, a parasol, and held it like a club.  
  
The door opened to reveal a very tall, very muscular, very dirty man. His dark hair appeared to be matted to his head permanently, his clothes were tattered and torn, and he bore several scars on his face. Kathleen bit back the urge to gasp at the sight. It would do her no good to be frightened. His eyes lit up when he saw her.  
  
"Well, well. What do we have here? Ain't ye a pretty 'un."  
  
Kathleen did not respond, but held the parasol tighter.  
  
"What be yer name, missy?"  
  
"I fail to see where that is any of your concern," she replied in her most haughty manner. At least, as haughty as one can be when one is threatening a pirate with a lacy parasol.  
  
"Oh, so it can speak. A bit high and mighty, ain't ye? Still pretty, though. Ye'll make a fine gift for the captain."  
  
"I belong to no one but myself and I will not be carted away like a prize."  
  
For such a big man, he moved awfully quick. Before she could react, his hand flew across her cheek in a stinging blow. Stunned at first, she quickly recovered and kicked him just as hard as she could with her pointy- toe shoes. He cried out in pain at the contact and she smiled smugly, but her triumph was short-lived. He delivered yet another blow to her head, much harder this time, and, as the darkness began to swirl around her, she felt herself being lifted off the ground and carried out of the room. 


	2. Kathleen meets Captain Jack Sparrow

A/N: Second chapter is here. Yay!  
  
Disclaimer: I only own the dvd.  
  
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"Jack isn't gonna like this, Gibbs."  
  
The first mate nodded his agreement as he watched the newest member of the Black Pearl crew take a young woman below deck.  
  
"Best for young Fowler to find that out for 'imself, Anamaria. Jack will be dealin' with 'im soon enough."  
  
Anamaria didn't respond. She had thought every crew member knew that kidnapping was strictly against the code. Maybe not the pirate's code. But it was against Captain Jack Sparrow's code. Fowler would find that out very quick.  
  
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Jack was blissfully unaware of the fact that one of his crew members had kidnapped a young woman and was, at this moment, relishing in his recent victory. Very little blood had been spilled, something that pleased Jack. He wasn't a murderer. The other crew had given in fairly quickly and, after looting the cargo holds, Jack had sent them on their merry little way. Not before replacing their British flag with his own, though.  
  
He was now sifting through the aforementioned cargo, keeping what was of value and trying to decide what to do with the rest. He threw a particularly heavy object over his shoulder and was quickly treated to the sound of a voice behind him.  
  
"Be careful, Jack. Ye almost hit me on the head with that thing."  
  
Jack turned around to see Anamaria, hands on hips, looking every bit as angry as she had when he returned to Tortuga without her boat.  
  
"Do ye not know how to knock, luv?"  
  
Anamaria ignored the question and stuck to the task that Gibbs had given her.  
  
"Jack, we have a problem. Fowler."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes as he turned back to the cargo. Anamaria had been against Fowler from the moment he had come on board three months ago.  
  
"What is it this time?" he asked.  
  
Never one to beat around the bush, Anamaria just informed her captain of the situation in a rather blunt way.  
  
"Fowler took a girl from the ship we just raided. A young woman."  
  
She watched as Jack's back suddenly went rigid. Slowly, he turned to her and the fire in his dark eyes made her very glad that she was not Fowler.  
  
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"She ain't for me, Captain. I brought her along for ye."  
  
Kathleen slowly opened her eyes as the angry voices came closer. Where was she? Why did her head hurt so badly? Memories flooded her mind and she groaned. She was captured by a pirate, who had obviously deposited her in a room normally used for storage. Struggling to sit up, she realized her hands and feet had been bound. Meanwhile, the voices came ever closer.  
  
"'Tisn't somethin' ye should've done, lad. The captain doesn't like this sort of thing."  
  
"But she's a gift!"  
  
A gift? She was a gift? Kathleen's temper quickly flared. She was no gift, no object to be given away. A different voice, somewhat slurred and, it seemed, much angrier than the other two, joined the conversation.  
  
"That's enough out of ye, Fowler! Keep yer filthy mouth shut!"  
  
Whoever owned the voice seemed to have quite a bit of authority, for the man known as Fowler fell silent. Kathleen held her breath as footsteps neared her location. She heard a key turn in the lock and then the door opened, admitting the pirate who had kidnapped her, a rather old pirate with scraggly sideburns, and a pirate who looked, well, rather odd. His dark hair hung around him in long dreadlocks, decorated with beads. He wore a tri-cornered hat and, underneath that, a red bandana. His eyes were a deep brown, outlined with kohl. When he began walking towards her, she was hard pressed not to laugh. Was the man drunk? Another glimpse into his eyes assured Kathleen that he was not. But he was very angry.  
  
"What be yer name, lass?" he questioned her. For a moment, Kathleen thought of refusing to give her name, but that wouldn't improve her situation any.  
  
"Kathleen Thomas," she said and instantly winced. Apparently, her abductor had left quite a bruise on her face. It hurt terribly to speak. The pirate must've noticed her wince, for he inched closer, inspecting her face. Though it didn't seem possible, his eyes grew even darker and he turned back to the other two men.  
  
"Fowler, beatin' women is not the quickest way to win me approval," he said quietly. Kathleen shivered at his tone. She almost preferred the yelling.  
  
"She kicked me, Captain," protested Fowler. Captain? This man was a captain? He didn't exactly look like a pirate captain to Kathleen. Where was his long beard? His hook? His wooden leg and eye patch? His parrot?  
  
The man Fowler called 'captain' turned back to Kathleen and, in spite of her urge to shrink back against the wall, she remained perfectly still. What would a pirate captain do to a woman who had hurt one of his crew?  
  
"Did ye kick him?" he asked, squinting at her thoughtfully. Anger rose up in her at the memory, along with a little pride, and she looked the captain in the eyes, her own emerald orbs flashing.  
  
"Just as hard as I could," she replied. The captain stared at her for a moment and Kathleen could've sworn she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. But he soon turned back to his crew members.  
  
"Fowler, ye'll be stayin' in the brig for the rest of this little journey. Gibbs, take him down and lock him up."  
  
"Aye, captain," said the elderly man, putting a hand on Fowler's shoulder. Fowler quickly shrugged it off.  
  
"I ain't goin' nowhere!" he yelled and started towards the door. Quick as lightning, the captain moved in front of him, his sword pressed to the larger man's neck.  
  
"Ye'll go where I say go and ye'll do what I tell ye, or ye can die right here. Savvy?"  
  
Kathleen watched as the bigger man's anger was slowly replaced by fear. He allowed himself to be led away by the man called Gibbs. The captain turned back to her and sheathed his sword.  
  
"Well, that was interesting," he said. Kathleen blinked. Interesting? That was an odd choice of words. He started towards her and reached out, making Kathleen flinch.  
  
"Don't worry, lass. I've no intention of harmin' ye. Just need to look at that head of yours."  
  
Her head? Oh, the place where Fowler had hit her. Though she didn't want to be touched by a pirate, she allowed him to take a look at it. He examined it for a bit, then took a look at her face.  
  
"Nothin' we can do for the bruise on your cheek, luv, but we'll need to bandage the other one. It's bleedin'. Can ye stand up?"  
  
"Of course I can," she replied. The captain untied her bonds and stepped back, signaling for her to stand. Very slowly, she pushed herself up. But no matter how slow she went, the darkness threatened to claim her again. What did Fowler hit her with, a club? Through her blurry vision, she saw the captain lunge for her as she began to fall again.  
  
"I can do it," she protested meekly as he lifted her up in his arms like a child.  
  
"Sure ye can, luv. Sure ye can."  
  
They were the last words she heard.  
  
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Next chapter: Kathleen gets to know Jack. Please review, but keep in mind that all flames will be used to light a bonfire on a deserted island containing only myself, Captain Jack Sparrow and an endless supply of rum. 


	3. A Chat in the Captain's Cabin

A/N: Another day, another chapter! Yay!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue me.  
  
Vicki: You were my first reviewer! As a prize, I present you with-----a bottle of rum! Sorry, I know that was silly, but I just seem to be in that sort of mood today.  
  
Fadryn: You don't like Kathleen? I don't blame you. She's been a bit wishy-washy so far, hasn't she? Don't worry, I'll make her all better.  
  
Mayya: Hello! Thank you for the review. I hope this update is soon enough for you.  
  
DaydreamBeliever14: I'm glad you like my story. By the way, love your name.  
  
Sarla: You had me going there for a minute. I thought I was being flamed! Glad you like the story. You say Captain Jack Sparrow would be proud? *blushes* Do you think he'd be proud enough for a personal visit? *wink wink, nudge nudge* No? I didn't think so either. Oh, well.  
  
A/N (again): I'm sorry if you reviewed the last chapter and didn't get a call-out! It's nothing personal! No, wait! Let me explain! Don't click the back button yet! *heaves sigh of relief* Thanks. Now, the problem is that I had to change my e-mail address and so I've lost most of my reviews on all my stories. Please don't let this stop you from reviewing this chapter. I've got it all under control now and I always do callouts on my stories. I live for reviews! They are my rum!  
  
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Kathleen blinked her eyes as she tried to adjust them to the sudden brightness that had filled the room. She realized with a start that she was laying in a bed. A rather comfortable bed, actually. It didn't take her much longer, however, to realize that she was only in her undergarments. She turned red with anger at the thought of some horrible pirate stripping her down. She began to get up to look for her dress, but was unceremoniously pushed back down.  
  
"You need to stay right where you are," said a voice.  
  
Surprised to hear a feminine voice, Kathleen looked up to see a woman not much bigger than herself. She wore a man's shirt and a pair of black breeches. Her black hair was pulled away from her face and she was looking at Kathleen with something that could be called concern.  
  
"Who are you?" Kathleen asked.  
  
"Anamaria. I've been sittin' down here with you since the captain brought you in. Fowler must've hit you pretty hard. You've been out for three hours."  
  
"My head hurts."  
  
"Really? Can't imagine why," came the rather sarcastic reply. Then the tone softened again. "It'll hurt for a while, Katie."  
  
"Who's Katie?"  
  
"That's what the captain said your name was."  
  
"Well, he was wrong. My name's Kathleen."  
  
"Oh. Well, Katie, I gotta go get the captain and tell him you're awake. There's some clothes over there."  
  
She was gone before Kathleen could protest being called 'Katie' again. Kathleen looked in the direction Anamaria had indicated and caught sight of a pair of grubby tan breeches and a sort of white shirt draped over a nearby chair. She eyed their rather unclean state with distaste Ignoring the splitting pain in her head, she bolted out of the bed and grabbed her dress, which had been hanging on an opposite wall. She cursed the impossible buttons and hooks, using language she hadn't used for nearly fourteen years. Reluctantly, she began to put on the shirt and breeches Anamaria had left for her.  
  
Just as she had finished buttoning the shirt, there was a knock on the door. Kathleen blinked in surprise. Pirates knocked? Since when?  
  
"Wh-Who is it?" Well, that was a stupid question. Apparently, the person outside the door thought so as well.  
  
"I'm the bloody king of England. Let me in."  
  
As irritated as she was with herself for asking such a dumb question, she was even more irritated by the response. She crossed the room to the door and flung it open.  
  
"Temper, temper," said the man who stood before her. He grinned at her maddeningly.  
  
"I am not accustomed to being treated so rudely," she replied. He laughed as he pushed past her and into the cabin.  
  
"I don't recall inviting you in," she continued, with the dismal realization that her haughty manners were having no effect on him whatsoever.  
  
"I don't recall you puttin' up much of a fight when I brought you in here earlier, luv."  
  
She didn't know how to counter that and the man took advantage of the opportunity as he pulled an apple out of a pocket in his coat and sat down on the bed, chewing it thoughtfully.  
  
"In fact," he continued, "you didn't put up a fight at all."  
  
This was said with another grin and, to Kathleen's horror, a sly wink. With a shock, she realized that she didn't remember anything after standing up in that tiny cabin and then blacking out again. Had something happened with this-this-thing sitting in front of her?  
  
"Rest easy, luv. Your virtue is intact," he finally said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Kathleen let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and the pirate looked somewhat insulted.  
  
"You don't have to act like it would have been the end of the world, Miss High and Mighty. Many lasses I've known would've given anythin' to be in your shoes today."  
  
"Just who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"  
  
The pirate rose and gave a slight bow which Kathleen grudgingly admitted was rather graceful.  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow, Terror of the Caribbean."  
  
"Well, Mr. Sparrow,"  
  
"Captain," he interrupted her. She looked at him uncomprehendingly. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why do I always have to go over this twice?" he asked the ceiling. Kathleen was quite sure he had lost his mind.  
  
"The name's Captain Jack Sparrow," he repeated, putting emphasis on the 'Captain'. Kathleen saw her chance and took it.  
  
"Oh. Very well then, 'Captain'. As long as we're on the subject of names, I'd appreciate it if you got mine right. My name is not Katie. It's Kathleen. And, to you, it's Mrs. Thomas."  
  
"Missus? Ah, so you're married. May I ask where your husband is? No doubt cursing the crew of the ship you were on and vowing to get you back."  
  
Did the man have no tact at all? Had he not been able to see that she had been completely dressed in black?  
  
"My husband is dead, Mr. Sparrow. Six months ago."  
  
Was it her imagination or did she actually see sympathy in those eyes? Those eyes were rather nice, actually. Wait. What was she thinking? What was wrong with her? What was he saying?  
  
"My apologies, Mrs. Thomas."  
  
She really hadn't been hurt by his remark. If she had loved Edward, or if he had loved her, the pirate's statement might have caused her pain. But she hadn't loved Edward. She hadn't even liked Edward. And to him she had been nothing more than a prize. But appearances had to be kept. How she hated 'keeping up appearances'.  
  
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow," she replied, relenting a little. After all, the man had saved her from his crew member and had been kind enough to give her bedding in his cabin. For this was obviously his cabin. It was too finely decorated to belong to just any crew member.  
  
Jack, meanwhile, had been watching this woman closely since his entrance. His outside appearance often threw people off long enough for him to surmise what sort of person they were. It had worked with Will, it had worked with Elizabeth. And it was working with this woman. For instance, he could see right away that she wasn't born into high society, though her clothing had certainly looked the part. Her high and mighty manner just seemed to fake. It was as if she were trying to repress a part of herself. He had seen the same thing with Elizabeth, though this woman was much better at it.  
  
"What are your intentions, 'Captain' Sparrow?" she finally inquired after an awkward silence. Jack looked at her in surprise. Well, she did get right to the point. Alright, then. An honest question deserved an honest answer.  
  
"I don't know, luv," he sighed. "I haven't decided, yet." He grinned at her again before leaving his position by the bed and crossing the cabin until his face was inches from hers.  
  
"I've a few ideas, though," he whispered. Kathleen's eyes went wide and, though her mind screamed at her to slap the offending pirate away, she stood as if frozen solid. Jack, who had been anticipating a slap or at least a biting remark, drew back when none were forthcoming.  
  
"You'll stay in here until I've had a word with me crew," he continued, his voice suddenly taking on a businesslike tone. Kathleen stared at him, irritated that she was being ordered around and even more irritated by the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. Jack looked at her, one eyebrow raised as he concentrated on her expression. She would be an interesting challenge, sure enough. Nearly impossible to tell what this one was thinking.  
  
"I'll be sure to let you know when we decide what to do with you," he finished. He gave another bow and swiftly left the cabin.  
  
Kathleen wandered over to one of the windows in the cabin and looked out upon the endless expanse of the blue ocean. For the first time in a long time she was frightened. And for the first time in a long time, she began to speak words she hadn't spoken since she was a child.  
  
"Ar n-athair, ata ar neamh: go naofar d'ainm. Go dtaga do riocht. Go ndeantar do thoil ar an talamh, mar dheantar ar neamh..."  
  
As she continued, she felt her fear ebbing further and further away, her own lilting voice bringing comfort to her heart. She was not in danger, of that she was now sure. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe that this particular pirate would ever harm her.  
  
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A/N: No, I'm not trying to work Elvish into the story. I swear! Honest! Kathleen is Irish, born and raised, and that will come into play later on. The above quote is the beginning of 'The Lord's Prayer' in Irish Gaelic. For anyone who speaks or understands Gaelic, I realize my quote isn't exactly correct. But I can't figure out how to get this darn keyboard to type accents. *Glares at keyboard*. My apologies if it irritates you. 


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